Destined
by Luna Darkside
Summary: Shinichi isn't expecting to find his soulmate at the investigation of Kuroba Toichi's murder... but that's exactly what happens. /ShinKai & KaiShin, soulmates!au, oneshot, complete/


_Happy 2015, everyone! *throws confetti*_

_Anyway. *nervous chuckle* Basically, I've been kind of dragging my feet with the latest fic I've been writing, so... here, have this soulmates AU fic I wrote a reaaaally long time ago! Yay! It was part of a fic series I was planning on doing last August, but I never ended up doing that series._

_Warnings include shounen-ai, grammar mistakes / errors, my old writing style (although I don't really know how much my writing style's changed since then), a bit of angst (it's pretty mild, but... yeah), etc._

_Hope you enjoy! - Luna_

**Destined**

[soulmates au]

The first time Kudou Shinichi saw one, he was eight.

His mother was baking cookies while simultaneously talking to Ran's mom on the phone ("Oooh, so Kogorou-kun can actually sweet sometimes! That's so cute!") when Shinichi, who was sitting at the kitchen table reading (unsurprisingly) _The Sign of Four_, caught a flash of something dark on his mother's wrist.

"Mom, what's that?" he asked curiously, setting down his book to stare at her.

Yukiko, blinking, turned her attention away from the phone for a minute. "What's what, Shin-chan?"

"On your wrist." Shinichi motioned at the hand holding the phone. "The dark thing."

"Hm?" Yukiko examined the inside of her wrist, the beginnings of a fond smile starting on her lips. Setting down the phone with a quick, "Hold on, Eri-chan," she crossed the room to show the markings to Shinichi, who instantly recognized them - the kanji for his father's name, _Kudou Yuusaku_. The lettering was neat, precise, but not entirely perfect, like someone had taken a calligraphy brush and very carefully written the characters onto Yukiko's wrist. Shinichi blinked in confusion. "I'm glad you asked, Shin-chan. This is the mark of my soulmate."

"Soulmate?" Shinichi frowned. "What does that mean?"

"The person I'm bound to for life," Yukiko explained vaguely, grinning at her son's growing confusion. "It's the name of the person I love. The person who's got my heart forever and always." She winked at him, expression just a hint dreamy, before going back to her conversation.

Later, Shinichi did some research, because clearly his mother was lacking in explanations.

Apparently, everyone had a soulmate mark. Before the age of ten, there were no signs of marking, nothing at all. After that, a dark smear could appear and slowly form characters, writing out the name of one's soulmate.

While that was romantic and all, it wasn't a perfect system. Unless you met your soulmate, your wrist remained bare save for the swathe of black - there was no way to know who your soulmate was without meeting them at least once. If you never actually met your soulmate in person, nothing would happen to the black smear; no characters would appear.

Sometimes people never found their soulmates. Sometimes people were afraid to fall in love and had the black mark removed so they'd never know. Sometimes people found their soulmates after they'd gotten married, started a family. Sometimes people rejected their soulmates.

Shinichi never thought much of the whole soulmate mark business. At first, he'd been expecting Ran's name to be scrawled across his wrist once he turned ten, but to no avail - Ran's name didn't appear.

When Shinichi found a dark smudge of black on his wrist when he was sixteen, he didn't think much of it. He was too engrossed in mysteries and too devastated by the fact that Ran's soulmate had been revealed to be "Hondou Eisuke."

By the time he was nineteen and there was still no signs of any sort of kanji on his wrist, Shinichi took to wearing a watch over the black smudge. The watch was useful, loaded with a tranquilizer dart and a USB.

It wasn't because he was secretly disappointed that he still hadn't found his soulmate.

Of course not.

* * *

><p>"So what's the deal with this one?" Shinichi asked as he stepped out of Takagi Wataru's police car, slamming the door shut as he glanced over the top of the car to tilt his head quizzically at the officer.<p>

"It's the murder of some world-class magician," Takagi replied, locking the car with a beep. He motioned at the calm little house beside them – well, it might've been calm if there wasn't a crew of forensic officers swarming through the rosebushes and the flashing lights of police cars everywhere. "We're here to talk with the family and examine the crime scene, which was the study. We'll go there first."

Shinichi nodded as he started up the walkway to the gaping front door. "Who's in the family?"

"Um, let's see." Once the two of them reached the entrance, Takagi pulled his detective's notebook out from the inside of his jacket. "It looks like… a wife and son. That's all, it seems."

"Oh." Shinichi strode into the house and glancing around. The inside of the house wasn't particularly remarkable, just your typical home. Pictures lined the walls – pictures of a smiling man and a laughing child, some with confetti and sparks flying wildly in the background and some including a beaming woman. It made Shinichi's heart twinge, just a little.

Behind him, Takagi cleared his throat. "The study is to your left, Kudou-kun."

"Oh. Right." Shinichi hurriedly started for the door to the study. A few more forensics officers were milling about, dusting furniture and doing luminol tests. The body was gone, with only a rope shape left.

Stopping by the outline, Shinichi crouched down to examine the bloodstains on the carpet. "Who was the victim?"

"Kuroba Toichi, forty-three. He was a famous magician – heard of him?"

"Mm, can't say I have, to be honest." Shinichi narrowed his eyes, tracing the irregular shape of the blood with his eyes. "Time and cause of death?"

Consulting his notes, Takagi read, "This morning, around one o'clock. About seven hours ago. He was home alone – the wife and son were out with friends. They found him when they got back around two thirty. The cause of death is one bullet to the abdomen. He collapsed onto the floor and bled out."

"To the abdomen?" Shinichi frowned. "So he was facing the culprit, then?"

"It seems that way." Takagi shrugged.

"Anything missing from the house? Stolen?"

"The bedrooms were ransacked. It seems like an amateur job. We think what happened was Kuroba-san had been asleep in the study. Someone broke in and started going through the rooms, thinking nobody was home. When they came to the study, Kuroba-san woke up, and the person panicked and shot him before running."

"I don't think so," Shinichi said slowly, looking up at the police officer. "First of all, there's no way he could've slept through the sounds of a ransacking happening a few rooms over unless he was drugged. And also, if the person really was panicked, they probably would've shot him more times, right? The cause of death wasn't that the bullet hit vital areas – it was that he bled out. Kuroba-san probably was still standing afterwards, if only because he was in shock. The culprit would've thought that he missed and fired more than once if they were panicking and acting on instinct. The single bullet wound implies that the person's goal was to kill him – painfully and slowly, at that."

Takagi rubbed the back of his head, slightly embarrassed. "As expected of Kudou-kun, huh?"

"Not at all," Shinichi answered absently, returning his attention to the floor. "The question is, who would want to kill a famous magician?" He run a hand through his hair. "I really don't know, to be honest."

"I don't know either," remarked a new voice, and Shinichi and Takagi both instantly looked towards the source.

It was a man, probably about Shinichi's age, leaning against the doorframe casually with his arms crossed over the front of his gray jacket. His hair fell messily over his face, obscuring the steady focus of his indigo eyes. His lips curved upwards in a flat smile. If Shinichi wasn't as good as he was at reading people, he would've written him off as a bit unfeeling and cold, but he noted the tension of the man's hands on his biceps and the glassily forced quality of his eyes and smile.

Shinichi remembered the pictures in the hall, and his heart gave a pang.

Oblivious, Takagi smiled welcomingly at the new arrival. "You're…" He peered down at his notes before looking back up. "…Kuroba Kaito-kun, aren't you?"

"Yep. That's me." Kaito straightened. He pointed at the outline on the ground, smile turning humorless. "That was my dad."

Takagi nodded. "I'm Takagi from the first division." Shinichi rose and dipped his head as Takagi gestured at him. "This is Kudou Shinichi-kun, our, ah, consultant of sorts." The officer extended a hand, offering a consoling nod. "My condolences."

Kaito accepted it. "Thanks."

Stepping forward, Shinichi tried for a smile as he stuck out his own hand. "Mine as well, Kuroba-kun."

"Thank you."

Kaito's hand was warm against his, Shinichi realized with a start. Not that it was surprising – most people had warm hands – it was just… why did it seem so... familiar, almost?

Dropping his hand, Shinichi backed up, feeling unnerved. Kaito was wearing an expression that probably matched how Shinichi felt, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows.

Takagi was looking back and forth between them, eyebrow creeping upwards. "Are... you two all right?" he asked hesitantly, and Shinichi snapped out of it.

"Yes, yes. We're fine," he quickly assured the police officer, rubbing his left wrist. Somehow, his wrist felt unusually itchy underneath his watch.

Clearing his throat, Shinichi turned to Kaito, who had also managed to regain his composure. "So, uh, you were saying that you can't think of anyone who would want to kill your dad?"

"Right. I mean, I don't know of him having any enemies or anything. Most people enjoyed his shows at least a little." A mirthless, dead-sounding chuckle here, and Shinichi frowned a little. Somehow, he didn't quite like the way that sounded.

"Where were you and your mother this morning?" Takagi pressed on.

"We were with some friends of ours – the Nakamori family. My dad didn't come because he claimed he didn't want to deal with Nakamori-san – they clash over that phantom thief, Kaitou Kid, a lot, but they're… they were actually good friends. But anyway, we lost track of the time a bit and didn't get back till half-past two. We… we found Dad then." Kaito swallowed.

"I see," Takagi nodded, having scrawled down Kaito's words. He pasted on a gentle smile as he shut his notebook. "Now, let's go find your mother, shall we?"

The man nodded, a little shakily, and followed Takagi out of the room. Shinichi trailed after him, examining the nape of his neck and where his hair brushed against the top of his jacket. Something about him was enchanting, enthralling, oddly enough.

When Takagi and Kaito stopped in the kitchen, where a woman Shinichi assumed was Kaito's mother stood gripping her face, Shinichi almost bumped into Kaito's back. He'd been too focused on Kaito to pay attention to where they were going.

Shinichi shook himself in irritation – what the hell was he _doing_ at a crime scene? Unconsciously, he scrubbed at his left wrist again. The mild itch had changed into a strange burning sensation, not quite painful, but just sort of foreign and a bit uncomfortable.

"Hey, Mom," Kaito greeted softly, and the woman blinked and peered at the three people standing in the doorway as if seeing them for the first time. Her amethyst eyes were puffy and red, and Shinichi sensed how fragile she was, how breakable and brittle she was. He suddenly understood why Kaito felt the need to act strong.

"Kaito," she whispered, her voice choked, and Kaito pushed past Takagi to wrap her up in a hug. Shinichi and Takagi tactfully didn't move, just watched as Kaito pressed a kiss to her cheek and murmured feathery words into her ear.

A few moments later, they broke apart. The woman set her jaw and met Takagi's eyes quietly. "Hello, Officer," she managed.

"My condolences, ma'am." Takagi bowed his head respectfully, and Shinichi did the same. "I'm Takagi from Division One, and this is Kudou Shinichi, our consultant."

"Hi." She smiled weakly at the two of them.

"You are Kuroba Chikage-san, right?" Takagi went on.

"Yes."

"I understand that this is a dreadful time, but would it be all right if I asked you a few questions?"

Impatiently batting away the remnants of her tears with the back of her hand, Chikage nodded resolutely. "Go ahead. Anything to help the investigation."

At this point, Shinichi stepped in, drawing everyone's attention to him. "We were talking to your son earlier. He said that he didn't think your husband had any enemies. Do you know?"

Chikage stared at him for a moment. "You're very young, aren't you? How old are you?"

"Oh, me?" Caught a bit off guard, Shinichi replied, "I'm twenty."

She brightened marginally, a small smile on her face. "I thought so! Just the same age as my Kaito." She and Shinichi both immediately looked over at Kaito, who was gripping his left arm absently. He started and blinked upon finding himself the object of scrutiny.

Clucking affectionately, Chikage turned back to Shinichi. "It's amazing that you're already working on the police force at such a young age."

"You think?" Shinichi grinned. "Thank you."

"Anyway." She sobered. "Yes, I do think my husband had some enemies. I don't really…" Trailing off, she seemed to reconsider her words. "He had some, ah, quirks that might've led some people to not like him. I can't think of… names, though."

"I see." Takagi wrote for a minute, then met Chikage's gaze yet again. "So you were with the Nakamori family this morning, correct?"

"Yes. Ginzou-kun and my husband were old friends, and Aoko-chan and Kaito were childhood friends." Chikage smiled faintly. "It's such a pity that they didn't end up getting married. They were always so cute together."

"Mom," growled Kaito, and Shinichi smirked at him. Kaito glared, his hand tightening on his wrist, and Shinichi had to suppress a laugh at the expression on his face.

Takagi coughed, bringing their attention back to the investigation. "Okay. Is there anything else you think we should know about your husband? Any colleagues, other friends, relatives?"

For a moment Chikage looked as if she desperately wanted to say something, but she seemed to swallow it back and instead answered, "Well, I can tell you about some of his friends, I suppose, but none of them would have a motive to kill him."

"Okay, then." Takagi snapped his notebook shut definitively. "Well, we'll be in touch, then. There may be some other officers coming in later to talk to you two again – this was mostly just for this guy's benefit." He hooked at thumb over at Shinichi, who shrugged. "He likes investigating on his own, without all the other officers, but we can't just let a kid run free at a crime scene." He winked and headed for the front door.

"I'm not a kid," grumbled Shinichi after him, earning a feeble laugh from Chikage. He smiled at her and bowed. "Thank you for your time, Kuroba-san. I'm very sorry for your loss."

"It was no problem," she assured him. "And…" She sighed. "We'll get through this. We always do."

"Hm." Shinichi cast a quick glance over at Kaito, who was now staring at his own wrist with a frown. Unsure of whether he should try to say goodbye or not, he tentatively called, "Uh, bye, Kuroba-kun."

Kaito's head jerked up, his expression fleetingly shocked. "Oh, um, bye." As Shinichi started to leave, he suddenly asked, "What was your name again?"

"Uh, Kudou Shinichi."

"What…" Kaito swallowed. "What characters?"

"For 'Kudou,' it's the kanji for 'craft' and then 'wisteria.' And for 'Shinichi,' it's the kanji for 'new' and then 'one.'" Shinichi quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why do you ask?"

For some reason, Kaito had gone white. "Oh. It's, er, nothing," he muttered, and pulled his sleeve back down. "Bye."

Shinichi left wondering what exactly _that _was supposed to mean.

* * *

><p>It was only later, when he was taking off his watch and heading for bed, that Shinichi happened to glance at his wrist to find kanji inscribed neatly on the skin.<p>

_Kuroba Kaito_.

* * *

><p>The next day, Shinichi called the Kuroba residence. The phone was picked up within the first two rings.<p>

"Hello?"

Kaito.

"Um." Shinichi cleared his throat. "This is Kudou Shinichi. The consultant from before."

"O-Oh." A pause, and then, "Did… did it happen to you too? The mark, I mean."

Shinichi eyed the now familiar characters emblazoned on his wrist. "Yes. Your name is Kuroba Kaito, with 'Kuroba' formed by 'black' and 'feather' and 'Kaito' formed by 'pleasure' and the character for Ursa Major, right?"

"Right."

Neither of them said a word.

"What does this… _mean_ for us?" Kaito asked after a second, hesitant and confused. "I mean…"

Smiling a little, Shinichi said, "I think we should start off with coffee, maybe. Do you know about Poirot?"

"That little café underneath that detective agency?"

"Right. Are you interested?"

There was a beat. And then – "How does two this afternoon sound for you?"

Shinichi was suddenly aware of the fact that he was grinning like an idiot. "Two is perfect."

* * *

><p><strong>*cringes* <strong>

**Ooookay, well, uh, I'm off to work on my current fic. Hope you enjoyed that to some degree - if you did, please consider dropping me a review! - and I'll see you all later! Happy New Year! - Luna**


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